


Of Thestrals and Nargles

by Novaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship (Luna and Ginny), Getting Together (Draco and Harry), HP:EWE, M/M, Post-War, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novaa/pseuds/Novaa
Summary: They say happiness can be found in the most unexpected places, but Draco never thought a Nargles’ nest would be it.





	Of Thestrals and Nargles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TDCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TDCat/gifts).



> Thanks to Tami, notobvioustome, retiredunicorn and timothysboxers for their great beta work!
> 
> Tdcat, you are an amazing person, and I wanted to thank you for all that you do for me, and for the fandom in general. I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for everything. <3

There are figures in the darkness, moving slowly and carefully closer to him. Draco casts a feeble Lumos, his hand trembling, and watches in horror as several Thestrals surround him, their skeletal heads drawing nearer. They open their immense lax jaws and close in on him; they peck at his flesh with their beaks, tear it to pieces with a quick jab of the head before they swallow it, blood dripping from their mouths. Draco's scream echoes through the night.

Draco wakes up in his bed, sweat pooling at the base of his neck, breathless.

“Just a nightmare,” he whispers to himself. “Nothing but a nightmare.”

Draco drags himself to the bathroom. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rubbing the bags under his eyes. He sighs, undresses and turns on the shower. It feels like the water can cleanse him, somehow, even though Draco knows he can never be completely clean. His fingers are drawn to his left forearm, and he scrubs the twisted patch of flesh that remains, a brand that will never quite fade.

Hair clinging to his skin, Draco walks out of the bathroom. Rivulets of water are running down his back and legs and onto the floor. But he doesn't care; a quick spell will take care of that later. His mother would be horrified, of course, but she’s not there to chide him. After the trials, five years ago, his father had been sentenced to Azkaban for life and his mother had been exiled. As for Draco, he spent six months in Azkaban. After living with the Dark Lord, it hadn’t seemed that bad in the end, with the Dementors gone. The isolation made him numb, though — to others, and to the outside world. So when he got out, he bought himself a small flat in London and has been living there ever since. He orders almost everything by owl, and avoids going out. He doesn’t know if he does it to keep himself safe, or to keep others from being hurt by him.

It would have been lonely — and it _was_ in the beginning — but then Luna Lovegood showed up at his door. He stumbled upon her on one of his rare outings, and she started to chat him up for no apparent reason. Draco had been out of Azkaban for a month, and was too stunned to do anything but agree to meet her again. She wormed herself into his shadow of a life, and if Draco is honest, she’s the only reason he’s stayed sane.

She visits him once a week with tales of magical creatures and nameless friends, and Draco is too tired, or too jaded, to try to guess their identities and reconstruct the world he’s left behind. He just makes tea and listens to her talk as she puts flowers and trinkets all over the place. He lets her, because no one shows him kindness nowadays. He could firecall his mother, but she’s in France, and he can’t leave the country. It would only hurt to see her, knowing they can never be together again. So Draco relies on Luna’s visits for human connection, and some days, he thinks it’s enough.

Once or twice, he considers pushing Luna away. For her own safety. But he’s a selfish man, and now that he has a friend, he doesn’t want to give her up. He’s not a nice person, he knows, but she brings something out in him, something quiet and calm that he hasn’t dared to show anyone before. He loves her, he thinks, and it’s strange to feel something for someone who isn’t his parents. But Luna has a way of making everything easier.

Even the fact that Draco is supposed to bring terrible misfortune.

*

“Hello Draco”, Luna says and puts her bag on his mantelpiece. It’s made of blue and white pearls and it wiggles ominously. Draco decides to ignore it.

“Do you want tea?” he asks, leading her into the kitchen.

She hops on the table and lets her legs swing. “Do you have alihotsy?”

“How about plangentine?” Draco says and picks up a jar from a shelf.

“That would be wonderful”, Luna says in her sing-song voice. “Actually, I have to ask you something,” she adds. “I found mentions of a Nargles’ nest, the only one in the United Kingdom. And I was wondering if you would come with me.”

Draco stares at her wide-eyed. “What?”

“Will you come with me on a wild Nargle chase?” she asks again, smiling toothily.

Draco shakes his head. He truly underestimated her sense of humour and self-mockery when he was younger. But just because he can appreciate it now, doesn't mean he's going to leave for who knows how long. “I’m sorry, Luna. You know I can’t,” he says and puts the teapot on the table, pouring the plangentine tea into two cups.

Luna looks at him, tilting her head to the side. “Will you stay holed up in here for the rest of your life, Draco?”

“I can go out if I want to,” Draco answers sullenly.

She shakes her head. “Because that’s not a life,” she picks up as if Draco hadn’t said anything. She looks up at him. “That’s prison.”

Draco doesn’t respond.

Luna sighs. “I’m leaving in two days. If you change your mind, you can meet me at the Quibbler’s headquarters in Horizon Alley.” She smiles. “I hope you’ll be there.”

Luna leaves, and Draco is left with two cold cups of tea and a sinking sensation that Luna will have things her way.

*

Two days later, Draco is standing in front of the Quibbler’s headquarters with a backpack. He wears sunglasses, a Muggle tee-shirt, jeans and a pair of trainers. Knowing Luna, this is going to be a messy trip, and he doesn’t want to dirty his favourite robes. He doesn’t really know why he’s here, but he can’t say no to Luna, and he’s tired of pacing his flat and reading the same books. Maybe Luna’s right. Maybe a little adventure will do him some good.

“Draco! You came!” Luna exclaims when she sees him, and runs to hug him tightly. Draco lets her, patting her shoulder awkwardly. “Please, come in. I’ll introduce you to the others.”

Draco freezes. “What others?”

Luna smiles. “Did you think we would go on an adventure all on our own?”

Draco did think that.

“Gin, Harry! Draco’s here!” Luna calls.

Draco feels his stomach drop. _Harry?_ As in Harry _Potter_? And the _Weaselette_? Oh no, Draco isn’t going on a road trip with Harry bloody Potter and his girlfriend. There’s no way. He goes to leave when the man himself crosses the threshold.

“Going somewhere, Malfoy?” the prat asks, looking smug.

Draco grits his teeth and turns to face him. “Potter.”

“Luna told us you’re coming along,” he says. He wears a checked shirt under a tweed coat with jeans, and looks way too attractive for his own good. His hair is still a mess, but he’s grown into his features. And quite well, if Draco’s honest. Suddenly, he feels ashamed of himself, knowing how tired and thin he looks, with his cheeks barely fleshed out. Draco looks _fragile_ , and Potter looks _strong_ , and it makes Draco wish that the ground would swallow him up.

But Draco is already there, and he can’t just go back on his word, can he? Especially in front of Potter.

“I guess we’re going on an adventure, then,” Draco says, voice stilted.

Potter grins. “I guess we are.”

*

When he thinks about it, Draco knows he had it coming. But still, sitting in the back of a car with Potter while Weasley sings Muggle songs at the top of her lungs is harsh punishment by any standards. Turns out the Weaselette is _Luna_ ’s girlfriend, which is slightly less sickening than her being half of the Golden Couple, but still annoying as they keep sharing fond looks and whispers of sweet nothings. If Draco didn’t dislike Potter as much as he tells himself he does, he would almost enjoy the looks of dismay Potter keeps sending him. But Draco _does_ despise Potter, so he shakes his head and looks resolutely out of the window.

“So, Malfoy, what have you been doing with your life lately?” Potter asks eventually — out of boredom or sheer curiosity, Draco doesn’t know.

“You know, lounging in my piles of money and looking down on lesser people,” Draco answers in a drawl.

Potter raises an eyebrow.

“Draco means that he hasn’t left his flat in three months,” Luna says.

“You’re lucky you’re driving,” Draco says, wishing he could send her a Stinging Jinx anyway.

“I’m always lucky,” Luna concurs and shares a disgustingly loving smile with the Weaselette.

“This is going to be a long ride, Malfoy. You could at least _try_ and make conversation,” Potter sulks.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He smiles evilly. “What happened with you and Girl Weasley? Did she get tired of your—”

“Malfoy!”

“Draco!”

“Sorry,” Draco says with a satisfied smile. “Still want me to make conversation, Potter?” he adds, showing his teeth.

“I think I like you better with your mouth shut,” Potter says, but instead of the bitterness Draco expects, he says it with a _flirtatious_ smile.

That effectively shuts Draco up.

*

“Pass me the map, Potter,” Draco demands from the front seat. He managed to switch with Weasley during a break and isn’t leaving his seat for all the Galleons in Gringotts. “We’ll be in Wiltshire in an hour or so,” Draco comments.

“Luna, can you put some music on?” Weasley asks. Luna flips a switch, and the Weird Sisters start blaring in the car. “Oh, I love this song!”

Apparently, Potter does too, because ten seconds later, the two of them start to sing “Do the Hippogriff” off key. Draco turns to complain to Luna, but she’s smiling from one ear to the other and wiggling on her seat.

Draco realises he’s a spoilsport and crosses his arms over his chest sullenly. He won’t complain, but he won’t indulge in such plebeian activities either.

*

“So believe,” Draco belts out. “[That magic works](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4l5ACTUo37g)! Don’t be afraid of being hurt…”

“Is this happening?” Draco hears Weasley say to Potter, barely audible under the music.

“I think it is,” Potter says, and Draco sees in the mirror that his eyes are glinting.

“Come on Draco! So believe…” Luna sings in turn.

Draco decides they can all go to hell. He’s having a moment with Luna. “That magic works!”

“And don’t be afraid, afraid of bein’ hurt!”

Draco puts his hand on his heart. “No, don’t let this magic die!”

Luna grins. “Ooh, the answer’s there!”

“Yeah, just look in her eyes!”

They start to sing together until their voices screech. “And don’t believe that magic can die! No, no, no this magic can’t die!”

Draco and Luna dissolve into laughter. In the mirror, Potter is still staring, a smile on his lips.

*

After a while, they take a break and Draco finally hops out of the car to stretch his legs. He’ll cross the bridge of car seating plans when he comes back.

“Wanna try?” Potter asks, leaning against the minibus. He holds a lit fag between his fingers and looks utterly edible.

Draco shrugs. “Why the hell not,” he says and takes a long drag… and coughs like a madman. Potter laughs, and Draco looks up, face purple. “Did you know that would happen? Are you trying to ridicule me?” Draco squints at him warily, then grabs the packet of cigarettes from Potter’s hand without letting him speak up. He pulls one out and lights it with an _Incendio Minima_ , then breathes in the smoke. He coughs less this time, and looks proudly at Potter, expecting to see disappointment. Instead, Potter looks happy.

“You’re getting the hang of it!” he says with a smile. “You can keep that one, but be careful… Those things can kill you,” he adds with a wink and climbs back into the car.

Draco swallows. It’s really hard to hate Potter when he’s being a flirt.

*

The rest of the trip goes smoothly. Once they’re in Wiltshire, they ride for another hour until they find the small wizarding village near the supposed Nargles’ nest. They park the minibus and go for a short walk to stretch their legs. Luna and Ginny disappear into their room as soon as the four arrive at the bed and breakfast — Draco makes a note to tease Luna later — which leaves Draco with Potter.

“It’s a few hours ‘til dinner,” Potter says. “Want to explore a bit?”

Draco frowns. “Why would I want to do that?”

Potter smiles. “Because we’re on an adventure! Come on, Malfoy. Have some fun.”

Draco remains still for a while, then nods. “All right, but if you’re up to something, I swear I’ll—”

“I’m not up to anything, and neither are you, so let’s just have a nice time, okay?”

They wander the streets for two hours, Potter pointing excitedly at this or that once in a while. Draco follows in silence, interjecting a snide remark here and there, but it makes Potter laugh instead of getting a rise out of him, which only confuses Draco more.

At nine, they grab fish and chips and go sit by a nice fountain to eat. Draco’s fingers are all greasy and disgusting, but his stomach is full and he feels better than he has in a long time. It gives him some confidence, and so he turns to Potter. “Why are you behaving like that?”

Potter looks at him funny. “Like what?”

“Like you don’t care about our,” Draco makes a frenetic hand gesture between them, “ _history_.”

Potter sighs. “Let the past be, Malfoy. That’s where it belongs.”

Strangely, Draco feels offended. “But—”

“I don’t care that you were a right git to me when you were a kid, Malfoy. I care that you’re friends with Luna now, and that you came out of your flat for her even though it sounds like it was very hard for you. I care that you sang with her to make her happy, even if it probably hurt your pride a little. I care that you’re wearing a Muggle outfit, smoking cigarettes and riding in a car.” Potter smiles. “I don’t care about the past, and I like the present you. That’s enough for me.”

Draco doesn’t know what to say. “Why are you enjoying this trip so much?” he asks instead.

“I never got to travel when I was a kid. Weekends at Hogsmeade were the closest thing to a holiday for me. Going on a road trip, it’s… It’s like a dream come true.” Potter chuckles. “Though I didn’t think you would be part of _that_ dream, that’s for sure.”

Draco genuinely laughs at that. “Dream about me often, Potter?”

Potter smirks. “You never know.”

Draco blushes and clears his throat. “Let’s head in, shall we? It’s getting late.”

“Sure, I’ll warn the girls,” Potter says and casts a Patronus.

All the warmth and ease seep out of Draco’s body at the sight of the translucent deer running up the streets to Luna and Weasley. Potter doesn’t seem to notice the sudden coldness in Draco’s demeanour, but Draco sure feels it.

He is foolish to entertain thoughts of happiness when being in Draco’s vicinity is a disaster in the making.

*

When they are back in the car in the morning, Draco remains silent and distant. Potter tries some moves on him, but the colder Draco grows, the quieter Potter becomes. Once on foot, on their way to the cave, Potter has stopped trying to get Draco to smile, or even talk, and has reverted to a cold demeanour towards Draco. Draco tries not to think too much of how tight his chest feels at the thought. It’s for the best, really, even if Weasley gives him the evil eye and Luna shakes her head at him in dismay.

Eventually, they find the cave. It’s a common cave, drafty and moist with mushrooms and moss everywhere. It’s disgusting and eerie, and Draco doesn’t want to go inside at all. The group has grown silent, and Draco knows it’s his fault, so he tries to cheer up the mood with a joke.

“Scared, Potter?” he asks, his voice only wavering a little.

Potter looks at him and grimaces. He doesn’t answer. “Let’s go in,” Potter says. “Luna, do you have the cork necklaces?”

Luna nods and ruffles through her bag to retrieve four sets of necklaces made of several corked pendants, each in a different colour. Draco takes the green one and, when he sees Potter rolling his eyes, he gives it to him. “Suits your eyes,” Draco grumbles, cursing himself inwardly.

“Thanks?” Potter says, confused. Well, Draco is confused too, so at least he’s not alone in his predicament. Luna takes the blue one, Weasley the red, which leaves Draco with the pink necklace. He doesn’t say anything, just pass it over his head. Pink never suited him, but it’s not as if anyone cares.

“Looking good, Malfoy,” Potter says. Draco recognises a peace offering when he sees one. He’s just not sure he should take it. After all, nothing has changed in the past few hours. Potter is still Potter with his smiles and his bloody eyes, and Draco is still… Draco.

“Thank you,” Draco says because he can’t help it. It’s been so long since he had people to talk to besides Luna, and he can’t help but yearn for more contact, more interaction. Even if he’ll have to give it up when the trip is over.

But sometimes, Draco wonders. Maybe he’s the one who fucks things up. Maybe if he fought hard enough, things would get better. Maybe he doesn’t have to live like a recluse, maybe he could be careful and watch his steps, and everything would be all right. Damn Potter and Luna, Draco thinks, damn them and their optimism and fucking hope. Draco has lived without it for a long time, but he doesn’t think he can go back to that kind of life now that he has realised he wasn’t living — just _existing_.

*

When they reach the end of the cave, Draco hears a hissing sound. He freezes, petrified by fear. He knows that sound too well. He hears it every night in his dreams.

“Get back!” he whispers urgently, his face pale and stricken. “We have to go back!”

Weasley frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Potter snorts. “Scared?”

Draco grabs Potter’s shirt by the hem. “You bet I am. This is the cry of a angry Thestral, you dolt. We _have_ to leave before they come!”

Potter pushes Draco away. “You’re such a coward, Malfoy. To think I believed you’d changed…”

Draco grits his teeth. “I don’t care what you think about me, Potter, but you don’t know Thestrals like I do.”

“I know them all right,” Potter disagrees. “They’re kind and loyal creatures, not that you could understand!”

Draco laughs. “I know Thestrals better than I know myself, and believe me when I say that they are extremely territorial and dangerous if you threaten their nest.”

Luna squeaks and they both turn to her, only to see a horde of Thestrals slowly surrounding them, their jaws clicking and screeching threateningly. They hiss at them and make a move towards the group. Potter immediately throws himself in front of Luna, Weasley by his side, but the Thestrals make quick work of disarming them with swift kicks of their legs and swishes of their wings.

Draco knows what he should do, the only thing he can do, but he’s so scared of what people will think, of what _Potter_ will think. The Thestrals are closing in, trying to peck at their flesh, their hissing turning into a screeching sound.

Draco closes his eyes and remembers his parents when he was younger. The love in their eyes, the happiness radiating off them. He remembers Luna, that time she brought cauldron cakes for Draco’s birthday. He remembers seeing her laugh and kiss Weasley, just enjoying the moment. He remembers singing in the car with her. And he remembers Potter, last night, looking at him with something akin to longing and how it had made Draco feel like he could be someone whole again.

“ _Expecto Patronum_!” Draco yells at the top of his lungs, and a silvery thread comes out of his wand, slowly turning into a winged horse-shaped form.

“A Thestral,” Potter whispers and looks at Draco with wide eyes.

Draco looks away, feeling the turmoil of emotion in his chest growing into a thunderstorm. He reigns his emotions back in and directs his Patronus towards the Thestrals. They stare at Draco with their empty eyes, hissing even louder and coming closer. This can only mean one thing: the Patronus failed, and Draco _did_ bring misfortune to those around him. Draco’s breath comes loud and fast, and all he can hear is his thunderous heartbeat and the blood rushing to his head. He can’t bear to look a moment longer, too scared of seeing what’s going to happen. Draco closes his eyes tightly as the head of Thestral brushes his face, then he feels the tip of a tongue on his cheek, then a gentle nudge on his shoulder.

When he opens his eyes, the Thestrals are retreating, led by his own Patronus, and everyone around him is safe, including himself.

Draco readies himself for the disgusting looks, but both Weasley and Potter look at him with wonder.

Luna clasps her hands together. “You have a mythical Patronus! That’s wonderful!”

“And it saved our arses too,” Weasley concurs.

“But,” Draco starts. “It’s supposed to bring terrible misfortune.”

Potter laughs heartily. “Draco, no, it’s just something people say about Thestrals because no one understands them. They are beautiful, soft, proud creatures,” he says and looks at Draco meaningfully. “They attack when they’re scared, but otherwise they are very kind. We rode with some when I was at Hogwarts,” he adds thoughtfully. “But I wonder what they were doing here.”

“Protecting this,” Luna says with wonder. “Look!”

Luna is pointing at a nest a few feet further into the cave. Inside are horse-like creatures the size of a big cat, with two tails and greyish-black fur.

“Are those Nargles?” Weasley asks.

“Do we even know what Nargles look like?” Draco wonders.

“Only one way to know,” Potter says and takes off his necklace. When he approaches the nest and holds out the necklace, the creatures hiss at him, recoiling from the cork-made jewellery. “I guess they _are_ Nargles. Fuck. They do exist.”

“Of course they do, Harry,” Luna chides as she approaches to pet the baby Nargles. Her necklace lies abandoned behind her, and soon the Nargles are licking her fingers. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

Draco doesn’t think so but nods anyway. Luna always had strange tastes. Suddenly, there’s a hand in the small of his back. Draco freezes and slowly turns to find Potter looking at him with a smile.

“Thank you for saving our arses earlier,” he whispers in Draco’s ear.

“You’re… You’re welcome,” Draco splutters.

“I’m glad I finally saw the real you, Draco,” Potter says with a cheeky smile. “I never knew I would like this side of you so much.”

Draco thanks his lucky stars for the darkness of the cave that prevents Potter from seeing him blush. _Lucky_ , that’s a word he hasn’t used for himself in a long while.

Luna pulls out a polaroid camera and takes several pictures. “For the Quibbler,” she says, then turns to face her friends. “But this location must remain secret. It could be dangerous for the Thestrals and the Nargles if people tried to find them.”

Weasley, Potter and Draco nod, opting to remain silent in the face of the utter irony of what Luna just said. It was true that Luna was well-intentioned and that hunters would be less inclined to kindness regarding magical creatures.

“Ride in the back with me?” Potter asks as they get out of the cave.

Draco shrugs. “If you want.”

Potter smirks. “Oh, believe me, I do.”

Draco, whose blush is now fully exposed in the sun, shares a knowing smile with Potter before they both hop into the back of the car, Potter’s hand brushing his own.

*

“They didn’t get my good side,” Draco complains, pointing at his photograph on the cover of the Quibbler. The _Ground-breaking discovery: Nargles do exist!_ issue written by Hortense Cooper features Harry, Ginny, Luna and Draco smiling more or less awkwardly holding a photograph of a Nargle.

“I like your bad side,” Harry says and kisses his cheek. It makes Draco blush, as it always does, but Draco is growing more and more used to it.

“Maybe I should send a Patronus to Luna, warn her that we’ll be late…” Draco whispers in Harry’s ear, kissing his neck.

Harry makes a sound that seems an awful lot like a purr. “Mm, maybe you should…”

Draco laughs and casts as Harry starts unbuttoning his shirt. The silvery Thestral comes into shape and seems to look fondly at the couple fooling around on the sofa before it slips out through the window, carrying out its mission.

And as Harry’s pressing hands slides under his shirt, Draco can barely believe his good fortune.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [tumblr post](https://drarrytown.tumblr.com/post/159873604623/on-draco-malfoys-patronus-being-a-thestral).


End file.
